اصل بول
ENترجمہ ابھی دستیاب نہیں۔ اصل بول دکھائے جا رہے ہیں۔
Crawling from the cities the filth chokes me to the taste, feeding the
desire to destoy this culture that I hate, the daily inquisition, the fear
that fuels our lives, sets each man against the other with the wool upon our
eyes.
Chains of comman
the weight of wait
under their wheels into concrete
face off the floor
rise up
retaliate
The razor blade infections out caverns deep across my skin
Reminding me of battles I have lost and will never win
There are no bullets here
These hands are clenched in fists
And the promise of another day is all that we have left
What remains here...?
Bowing to the dollar in their selfish church of capital
Where wealth encrusts their bodies
Yet cancer fills their hearts?
Brother will kill brother in this stained-glass abattoir called 'earth'
My arteries are boiling with hatred undefined for this colonizing monolith
that suffocates our lives
A bastard congration runs the head of this machine
Our hands will gut it's gears 'til their blood runs cold and we are free.
